


Purple and Red

by AvaKelly



Series: Bits and Pieces [26]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Falling In Love, Lipstick, M/M, Oblivious, Pining, Shenanigans, lip gloss, the whole team knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaKelly/pseuds/AvaKelly
Summary: "Clint, what is that in your pocket?" asks Natasha, eying the phallic shape outlined in Clint's front pocket of his super flexible, super tight tights of his Hawkeye suit.Or the one where Bucky's interests are piqued by objects in pockets. Warning: they're not guns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Extended from [this post](http://intermittently-ava.tumblr.com/post/151154522302/purple-and-red).

"Clint, what is that in your pocket?" asks Natasha, eying the phallic shape outlined in Clint's front pocket of his super flexible, super tight tights of his Hawkeye suit.

Bucky has heard of the eternal gun-or-happy-to-see jokes regarding the contents of pockets, and a sigh escapes his lips unabated, expecting a horrid line with a worse pun.

"A tube of Ultra Smooth by Shine in the shade of November Plum," Clint says, immediately followed by an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.

At that, Bucky's body straightens itself without Bucky's input. What? He waits for Natasha to ask details, but nothing comes. She rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and Bucky almost asks himself. But just as his mouth opens, Clint turns and winks at Bucky. Winks!

~

Clint's heart pounds in his chest as he walks away. For the first time, ever, Bucky's displayed interest in him and Clint's caught between giddiness and wonder. Ever since Bucky's made his way into their lives at the new Avengers facility, Clint's been pining hard enough to make Nat sigh audibly. But it's not his fault, and it's not like he hasn't tried to catch Bucky's attention.

It's just... Clint shakes his head. Bucky's so strong, stronger than Clint will ever be. He survived all those years and Clint empathizes. If it weren't for Nat to understand what Clint's been through, Clint wouldn't be here right now. So while he was trying to find ways to offer Bucky his help, Clint accidentally fell in love.

He fell for those eyes that might seem dead to others, but Clint sees the life in them. He fell for that secret smile Bucky smiles at the simplest things, when nobody's looking. He fell for the way Bucky talked to a little girl in the supermarket, telling her she's still beautiful even with a prosthetic.

Wait, where was he going? Ah. New gloss. He bought it on their way to extraction earlier and couldn't hide it anywhere other than his pants pocket. At least it piqued Bucky's interest. You go, gloss! Maybe November Plum will be his lucky charm. He likes this color, he thinks as he slips into his room.

~

It's been two weeks. Bucky has not found the tube of whatever. Maybe it's a poison. He must know.

~

Clint vibrates in his seat. He's had more interaction with Bucky in the past week than in the entire time Bucky's been here. And by interaction Clint means stalking. Because that's what Bucky's doing, trying to figure out what was in Clint's pocket.

And did Clint let him find out? No. Did Clint bribe everyone into not telling Bucky? Yes. Did Clint convince JARVIS not to allow search results on the internet return anything relevant? Yes again.

Because, apparently, Clint can't act like an actual adult. But the way Bucky keeps his attention on him is too satisfying to give it up, so he carries that tube of gloss everywhere, never lets it out of his sight. If Bucky knows, then he'll go back to ignoring Clint.

~

Week three is at its end. Nobody is in the least helpful. Steve, the asshole, dares laugh. That's it. Bucky will get his answer even if he has to strip search Clint himself.

~

Clint's on his way to his room when a metal arm blocks his advance, palm resting against the wall. Clint shifts his eyes and smirks at Bucky, even though his stomach has suddenly decided to host an entire swarm of butterflies.

"Can I help you?" Clint drawls.

"Depends," Bucky says before he straightens. "I'm having trouble with a cultural reference. What is strip poker?"

Oh. Oh, no. Clint's not so easily fooled and he laughs with a head shake. No matter how much he wants to get Bucky's clothes off of him, this is too corny.

"If you wanna get me naked, Barnes," he says, "you gotta try harder."

~

JARVIS is helpful in assisting Bucky with searching for information on how to get fellas naked. There are a lot of movies. A lot.

Natasha suggests buying a gift, like explosives. Tony suggests building a gift, like a coffee maker. Steve laughs. Bucky's gonna punch that smug yapper of his one of these days. The only sensible of the bunch is Sam, who gives Bucky game tickets.

Bucky's never seen Clint smile so much as he does during the game and only later does Bucky realize he forgot about his mission.

~

Clint's been cooking Sam breakfast for three weeks now in gratitude for giving Bucky date ideas. It's like Sam gets it. Nat keeps laughing at him, the fiend.

"So what happened last night?" Sam asks between bites.

Clint hums around his sip of coffee. "We snuggled during the movie. Actually, he was trying to pat me down, but I'll take it."

Sam shakes his head. "Why don't you just talk to him?"

With a shrug, Clint looks away. On the other side of the table, Sam sighs.

"Fine, fine. Where do you wanna go next?"

Clint grins. "Picnic!"

~

Bucky watches Clint carefully, trying to determine if he is asleep as he lies there on the blanket next to him. They've played catch, eaten, now Clint's taking a nap with his head in Bucky's lap. It's nice, the sunlight warm, a nice breeze rustling the leaves. Clint's breathing is even under Bucky's caresses through his hair, so Bucky dares slide his hand lower, and lower, and he's almost to the pocket--

"A gentleman doesn't try to get into someone's pants without a kiss first," Clint says with a chuckle.

That's it. Bucky turns him and takes his mouth. That'll show him.

~

Clint keeps grinning like he never grinned in his entire life. His cheeks hurt and no amount of warning from Nat can take this bliss away. Bucky kissed him.

~

Bucky runs his fingers over his own lips. It's been four days and he's been avoiding Clint like the plague.

Why did he do it. Why.

Half an hour ago, he ran into Clint for the first time since that picnic and the betrayed look on Clint's face sent a pang through his chest. Realization dawned, then, that Clint's mad, that Clint's not going to smile at Bucky like he does, that Clint's never going to ki--

He needs to apologize, even though he doesn't want to. He wants to kiss Clint again, but if that means losing his friendship, Bucky would rather-- oh, heck. He'd rather pretend not to have fallen in love with him.

~

There's a persistent knock on his door and Clint finally mutters an invitation, even though he doesn't really want to see anyone tonight. Especially not after the pitying looks he's been getting from everyone. He'll get the fuck over it, it's not the first time he's had his heart broken. He wishes that Bucky would've at least given him the courtesy of saying it to his face rather than avoiding him.

The door opens and Clint has to blink a few times to make sure he's not imagining this. Bucky's there, hands in pockets and a scowl on his face.

Right. The talk. Tony was ranting about giving Bucky a piece of his mind earlier, so maybe that's what brought Bucky here. But Clint hopes Tony didn't, because there's only so much embarrassment Clint can handle right now. Best cut this short.

"I know why you're here," Clint says, "so don't worry. I'm ok with it."

He expects Bucky to leave, but instead he comes closer. His face is... awed, for lack of a better word, and Clint raises from the armchair, drops his book on the seat.

"Really?" Bucky says, sounding relieved.

He nods slowly, his eyebrows knitting with confusion.

"Oh," Bucky breathes, his hand coming to rest on the side of Clint face. "So we're going steady?"

Clint's frozen in place. What the hell is going on? "What," he croaks.

"I'm glad you're not mad at me," Bucky continues and Clint pushes his hand away.

"Of course I'm mad." Dammit. He promised himself he won't say anything, but this is too weird and Bucky's not above everyone else. "You kissed me and then ignored me like I'm diseased or something! Well, sorry I disturbed your life with my feelings for you," he spits with a grimace while he crosses his arms.

A couple of seconds pass, then Bucky's face falls as his eyes widen with comprehension.

"No, I," Bucky starts, but then his mouth opens and closes without sound a few times.

Clint glares and Bucky squares his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.

"I realize my behavior wasn't right by you," he tells Clint. "I'm sorry about that and I hope you let me make it up to you."

Whoa. Clint blinks, something heavy behind his eyes. Nuh-huh, not bawling, do not dare bawl right now, he tell himself, because nobody ever apologized like this to him before. He swallows and nods despite himself.

Bucky inhales again. "Good. I guess figuring out I love you took me longer than it should," he hangs his head with a shake at himself.

"What?" Clint's brain must have left the station because it sounded like Bucky said he loves him.

There's this fraction of a moment when they stare at each other and they both understand that they haven't been talking about the same thing. Bucky takes a step back and Clint takes one forward.

And another, and again, until Bucky's back hits the wall and Clint rests his palms on the side of his head.

"We're idiots," Clint says. Of course they are.

"If we must," Bucky returns, weary.

Clint smiles. "I love you, too."

And suddenly there's arms around him and Bucky laughs, squeezing Clint until it's hard to inhale, then steals more of his breath with his lips. Clint's heart leaps with joy, other parts of him following closely when Bucky turns them around and presses Clint against the wall.

"One curiosity," Bucky rasps as he slips his hands under Clint's t-shirt.

Clint hums, too busy unbuttoning Bucky's shirt.

"What was in your pocket?"

"Not a gun," Clint says, trying to wiggle his eyebrows, but mirth overtakes him at Bucky's annoyed expression. "Ok, ok, I'll show you."

He retrieves the gloss from under the pillow, unscrews the cap and paints his lips with practiced ease in a dark shade of purple. If Bucky's going to freak out about this, Clint would rather he does it now than later.

But Bucky watches, rapt, and by the time Clint finishes, he's biting his lower lip.

"Fuck," Clint breathes.

"Can we?" Bucky asks, fingers already gripping at Clint's hip.

"Yes, please."

~

Bucky stretches as he wakes. His body aches beautifully. He is warm and content after a satisfyingly deep sleep. Something pokes his side and he fishes out the transparent tube of lip gloss. Bucky grins. It's almost empty, traces of purple everywhere. On the sheets, on Bucky's stomach, down toward his hips, on his collarbone. Clint's not looking any better himself, but hey, purple is Clint's color.

Maybe they can try red next time.

~End~


End file.
